


Training

by Lokomotiv



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:43:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokomotiv/pseuds/Lokomotiv
Summary: Valentine is evil. Also a sick bastard. This is a surprise to absolutely no one, least of all his son.





	Training

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for incest, rape and emotional manipulation. Seriously, it's brutal. Beware.

“This is what you want to do to Clary,” Valentine whispers in his ear.

“No, no,” he moans, then gasps in combined pleasure and pain as his father gives a particularly hard thrust at the same time as his hand does something twisty with just the right amount of pressure on Jace’s own cock.

“Yes,” Valentine assures him. “You want to stick your dick in her, you sick fuck, just like this. You’re just. like. me."

Jace closes his eyes and shakes his head, even as a small part of him has to acknowledge that what his father is saying is true. _Sick fuck._ But not like this, he tells himself. He’s not _that_ sick.

“And you like taking it up the ass, too, as long as it’s Daddy’s dick, isn’t that right?"

This time, Jace shakes his head more violently. No, he doesn’t want this. Valentine just chuckles and increases the pace of his thrusts.

“No?” he asks softly. "So you gave it up to your sissy parabatai too then? No, you didn’t. You saved yourself for Daddy."

The hand on his dick speeds up too, and he could have cried if Valentine hadn’t trained him out of that years and years ago, because it feels _so good_ , even with the sharp pain in his ass as a counterpoint.

“Admit it, son. You want to fuck your sister, and it’s only a matter of time until you will come from being fucked by your father. There is something _seriously wrong_ with you. I’m so proud."

“No,” Jace manages to gasp through gritted teeth, even though there are precious few things in Valentine’s statement he can actually protest with integrity.

“Oh, you don’t believe it’s the same thing? Just because I had to tie you down and take you by force, you don’t think this is the same thing as your feelings for Clary?”

Jace doesn’t answer, because he’s afraid he _would_ cry if he did, training be damned.

“Let me remind you that you came to me willingly."

_You threatened my family._

“You’ve had multiple opportunities to kill me, but you haven’t."

_You’re my family._

“You are aware, you’ve commented on it yourself, that we are very much alike, you and I."

_I don’t want to be like you._

“Of course this is what you wanted."

_No._

Then Valentine doesn’t say anything more, focusing instead on fucking the living daylight out of his son. Jace gives up on not crying, because it _hurts_ , and it feels _great_ , and he _did_ know they were alike, and he _did_ know he still wanted Clary even after he found out they were brother and sister. And in some sick and twisted way, he does want his father’s attention, his approval. They both come, Valentine with a shout and Jace with a sob. Jace lies very still as Valentine pulls out, listening through his own ragged breathing to his father cleaning up and tucking himself away. Valentine walks around him, squatting down so that they’re face to face. Jace avoids his eyes, instead staring into the distance over his shoulder.

“Crying, huh? Well, we’ll just have to take up training again, I guess. Other than that, you took it like a champ, son. Next time will be easier."

Jace’s eyes snap to his father's, and Valentine chuckles.

“Yeah. You’ll learn to like it, even if you don’t right now. Which I’m not actually so sure I believe. You’ll be begging me to fuck you, before I’m done. You know I can make that happen."

Yes. Jace knows his father can make that happen; Valentine was always very good at training his son.

“I know you probably want to sneak away and hide for a while right now, that’s what you always did after training when you were a kid. But first I need you to help me test the loyalty of my crew. They know that you’re mine, but I need to know they understand what that _means_. Let’s see if they can resist temptation if I leave you here like this, shall we? I think most of them will, but after the show we just gave them? One or two might be unable to control themselves, and I need to know who they are. _We_ need to know who they are. You understand that, right?"

Jace just closes his eyes, because there’s nothing else he can do to get away from all this. He vaguely wonders if his father will intervene as soon as someone touches him, or if he’ll let them fuck him with no apparent consequences and punish them later. He finds he doesn’t really care. The physical pain he can handle, and after practically drowning in a sea of humiliation from being publicly stripped, fucked and made to come by his own father, some random nobody using him to get off will hardly even register as a ripple. They won’t live long enough for him to have to face them, anyway, if he knows Valentine (which he does, fuck, he _does_ ). His father’s clothes rustles as the man stands up. Jace feels a rough hand patting him on the cheek.

“Good boy,” his father says, and walks away.

Jace hates that he feels a little bit proud at Valentine's words, even as he tries, once more, to get free of his restraints before giving up. He resigns himself to spending the night bent over a crate, feeling his father’s come slowly dripping out of his asshole. Like he has resigned himself to his father’s training so many times before. Come morning, this will be just a memory of another lesson, and although Jace is not quite sure what he is supposed to have learned from it, he _is_ sure that whatever it is will turn out to be useful at some point, because ironically, everything he likes about himself, Valentine has taught him. He knows without a shadow of a doubt that whatever use he has been (is, will be) to the people he loves, has been only thanks to Valentine and his training. That might be the lesson that he least liked learning, but probably also the most important one.


End file.
